We All Need Fixing
by Fenris's Slytherin Princess
Summary: Harry almost regrets going to the party, but then he helps. WARNINGS: Abusive!Draco, rape, drinking, sex-talk.


It was the Christmas holidays at Hogwarts, and it was Harry's eighth year. Due to the war, everyone at Hogwarts was retaking their previous year, if they still attended. Most still attended, which was good for blending in. Harry was on course in his pursuit of becoming an auror, as was Ron. Hermione wasn't sure what she wanted to do, but Ginny wanted to play Quidditch. Harry and Ginny had broken up, due to stresses and such, and they agreed to be friends. Draco and Harry had paired up a lot in class, and were becoming friends.

"Harry!" Ron ran up to Harry on his way to the library, "there's a party tonight! Are you coming?" Ron stopped Harry in his tracks, and waited for an answer, hopping between feet.  
"Sure," Harry shrugged, "same time, same place?"  
"Of course! Seamus got us some drink, so don't worry about anything. Hermione's coming, though, so... you know, behave!" Ron grinned, and ran in the opposite direction to Harry.

The library was dimly lit, and near silent. He wound around a corner, and slumped into a hard, wooden chair, and got out a half finished charms essay. He put his head down, rearranged his glasses, and got to work.

Harry finished an hour later, and as he got up to leave, he thought he heard someone move, but he couldn't see anyone, so he brushed it off. He skipped up to his dorm, and got ready.

"Harry!" Seamus clapped Harry on the back, and handed him a bottle of firewhiskey. Harry nodded gratefully, and entered the Room of Requirement fully. He set out to find Hermione, but was stopped.  
"Hello, Potter," a familiar drawl was heard. "I'm glad you came, how are you?"  
"I'm not bad, Malfoy," Harry said politely, desperate to leave, "how are you?"  
"Ready to get wasted." Draco winked at Harry, "are you ready for spin the bottle later?"  
"Sure," Harry was always up for a bit of fun, and everyone was looking great. "Can't say I'm for the drinking," Harry shrugged, "but why not. Seize the day, and all that."  
"Carpe diem?" Draco raised one eyebrow, impressed.  
"Yes," Harry nodded. "It's Latin."  
"Yes, I know, idiot." Draco snapped, and Harry recoiled. "Sorry- Slughorn worked us today, didn't he?"  
"Yes," Harry said, uneasily, "he did." He scooted off to find Hermione.

"Spin the bottle!" Seamus shouted, his Irish accent ringing out over the large, dome shaped room. Seventh and eighth years gathered around in a circle, and Harry was on the outside of Ron and Hermione.  
"Have fun, Ron, I don't mind." Hermione smiled nicely at her boyfriend, but added in a low tone, "_no tongues._"  
"Yes, Herman." Ron hiccupped, giggling. Hermione scoffed and rolled her eyes, but kept her head on Ron's shoulder. Seamus spun the bottle first, and landed on Neville.  
"Oooooh!" The rest of the group laughed as Seamus spun again.  
"Missy Lovegood!" Seamus roared, and pointed between Neville (blushing badly) and Luna (smiling smugly). "The question is: Can she love-good?" Seamus giggled at his own joke, and then sat back, waiting for the snog-fest to start. Luna, who was sat three people away from Neville, crawled over to the cowering Gryffindor, and kissed him on the lips gently. A few girls made ahhing sounds, apart from Pansy Parkinson, who was sat next to Harry, who made gagging noises. Draco pinched her arm and told her to be quiet. "Okay, love birds," Seamus patted Neville on the back, and waited for Luna to sit back down before speaking again. "Let's spin again!" The bottle landed on Blaise and Draco, who both laughed and blushed. Harry was sipping his firewhiskey, and barely refrained from spitting it all over Parvati Patil, because Blaise was pulling Draco's smart, black blazer, and Draco was holding Blaise around the neck forcefully. Nobody made a sound, but when the boys surfaced, everyone had their mouths gaping open. Of course, this was rectified when the looked around the stunned circle, because everyone broke into awkward laughter.  
"Woah," Ron leaned over to Harry and whistled, almost impressed.  
"Yeah," Harry said, "I know." Draco, sat the other side of Pansy, looked into his lap sheepishly, then looked at Harry apologetically.  
"That's boring- no offence guys- so let's spice things up a bit!" Seamus was _clearly _nearer drunk than sober, but still, everyone was having a good time. "When the bottle lands on you, you can either kiss the other person, and remove an item of clothing, _or _go in the cupboard with them for seven minutes, and keep your clothes on."  
"What?" Hermione questioned.  
"It's simple!" Seamus grinned, "okay, we'll do a round, and you'll see." So Seamus spun the bottle, and it landed on Dean and Lavender. Harry swore he saw Seamus scowl, but he didn't say anything. "So, Dean, Lav, are you going in the cupboard, or removing clothes?"  
Dean and Lavender whispered together for a second, then spoke openly. "Removing clothes." So they both took off their jackets, and kissed quickly. Hermione nodded in understanding, and watched the game unfold.

"Blaise, Ginny, what's your choice?" They'd been playing for a while longer, and Harry hadn't been landed on yet. He wasn't sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing.  
"Clothes!" Ginny laughed drunkenly. She took off her polo shirt confidently, and Blaise removed his thin jumper, and let himself be kissed passionately by Ginny. Harry didn't feel angry or annoyed by this, and sipped his drink whilst his ex was kissing Blaise. Seamus spun the bottle again, and announced the names.  
"Draco..." He said, whilst the second spin slowed, "...and... _Harry Freakin' Potter_!" He yelled, ecstatic.  
"I'm not kissing him!" Harry said, alarmed.  
"Ouch," Draco winced, "that hurt."  
"In the cupboard it is!" Seamus ushered the first cupboard pairing away to the side of the room, where a tall cupboard stood.

Harry had left his drink behind, and was feeling claustrophobic as he and Draco were squashed into the cupboard. There was only a tiny crack of light to see by, and it fell on Draco's pointed face, illuminating it. Harry cleared his throat, and felt Draco pressed up against him. "Don't you have any room behind you?" Harry asked, getting uncomfortable.  
"Yes," Draco breathed, and moved even closer into Harry, if that were possible.  
"Then could you move back-" Harry was cut off my a hand over his mouth. He tried to struggle, but Draco's grip was strong, and firm. Harry felt a cold hand go up his shirt, and he shivered. He wished he had his wand, but he didn't, and he wished he was stronger, but he wasn't.  
"Don't struggle," Draco said into Harry's ear in a slow, articulate hiss. Harry was unsure what was happening, if he was honest, and he wasn't sure if he was terrified or aroused. Draco's hand wandered up Harry's shirt further, and stroked his collar bones. Draco released his grip on Harry's mouth, then asked, "are you going to shout?"  
"No," Harry replied, feeling this was the right answer. Even if he did call out, who'd believe him? He let Draco's hand hold the back of his head, and he let his mouth be kissed, even if he didn't kiss back to start with.  
"I like it forceful," Draco said, kissing Harry hard. His hand was holding Harry's head, and tugging on his hair hard. Draco's other hand wandered down, and played with the front of Harry's jeans.  
"Stop," Harry said, into Draco's lips.  
"No," Draco said, kissing harder.  
"This isn't a game, Draco," Harry panted, struggling. "Stop it."  
"You like me," Draco said, biting Harry's lip. "I know you do."  
"Not when you do this," Harry justified.  
"I like you too," Draco kissed Harry's exposed neck playfully, and rubbed his jaw bone.  
"You hurt me," Harry gasped, stroking his own jaw bone, assessing the damage.  
"I'm sorry," Draco licked Harry's earlobe, making shivers shoot up Harry's spine. "I just want you so badly," Draco had Harry pinned against the cupboard's sides, and was near enough grinding against him.  
"This isn't how you get me!" Harry explained. "Stop it!" Harry tried to push Draco back, but his limbs were shaking with fright.  
"Kiss me," Draco muttered, closing in on Harry's trembling lips. Harry made a muffled sound, and tried to bat Draco's hand away from his crotch.  
"No!" Harry kept turning his head from side to side, distracting Draco for as long as possible. "Stop!" Harry managed to shout, but nobody appeared to hear outside, because nobody came to the rescue.  
"Silencing charm," Draco said, as if reading Harry's thoughts. "I'm good at them," he held Harry's face still, and kissed him, more angry than loving. Harry did the only thing he could do; he held his breath till he passed out.

Early morning light cast itself over Harry, and he opened his eyes sleepily. He was sore, and not alone. He could only see fuzz for a second, then his vision focused. He was not in his own dormitory, because it was not red and welcoming. He was somewhere else; green and foreboding. He then realised that he was naked under the bed sheets, and instinctively curled up in a ball to cover himself. He reached around for his glasses, and found them on the bedside table. Slipping them on, he saw a silver tapestry, with a giant green snake in the centre. "You're awake," Draco was sat next to him and sounded relieved. He took to pushing strands of raven hair out of Harry's eyes. "You slept for hours."  
"Why am I here?" Harry panicked, and would have sat up, but he was naked and vulnerable.  
"You begged me to take you back with me," Draco shrugged, "so I did. You were sick _everywhere_ and I had to undress you to clean you," Draco was in his pyjama's, and stood up, turning around. "There are some clean clothes in the wardrobe over there," Draco pointed behind him, "feel free to wear them." Draco didn't turn around until Harry was up, out of bed, and fully dressed. He was thankful that Draco had been as slim as he was, otherwise the clothes would have fallen off him.  
"Why am I really here?" Harry pressed, standing a little way behind Draco.  
"You were sick, and..." Draco shook his head, "I am truly sorry," he muttered, "for my behavior last night. I was drunk, and I treated you badly. I know I was wrong," he looked down sadly, "I have taken to drinking since my father was imprisoned, and I fear I am filling his shoes all too well."  
Harry steeled his nerves, and stood next to Draco, glancing at his sombre expression. "You really are sorry, aren't you?"  
"Words are not enough, I realise that," Draco ran his hand through his messy blond hair, and frowned. "But I beg you forgive me for my actions, it appears I cannot control lust as well as others." Draco exhaled deeply, as if even the words were taking weight off his shoulders.  
"Draco," Harry quaked, "you hurt me, and I don't know if I _want _to forgive you."  
"I wouldn't forgive me," Draco lost his composure for a second, and slumped. He stood up straighter afterwards, "I cannot fathom how I must have hurt you. But you have a bruised jaw, and I fear that was me. May I heal it?"  
"I..." Harry thought if he should go and get it healed properly, but he didn't want the fuss, "go ahead."  
Draco took out his wand from the bedside cabinet, and muttered healing spells over Harry's face. The bruises disappeared, and the pain lifted instantly. "That is, at least a little, alright for now." Draco turned and sat on his bed, and buried his head into his hands. "I have ruined what we could have had," he looked up at Harry, his eyes like molten metal, "didn't I?"  
Harry sat next to Draco, and tenderly patted his shoulder. "We can get you help, Draco." Harry said confidently yet softly, "you are not lost."  
"Do you truly believe that?" Draco's eyes seemed to twinkle with happiness, though they watered terribly, so it was difficult to tell.  
"Yes," Harry nodded firmly, "if you can promise you won't hurt me, or anyone else, or yourself again."  
"I promise," Draco's voice wobbled, and he let Harry wrap one arm around him.

Harry didn't tell Ron or Hermione about what happened in the cupboard, but he did have to tell them that he woke up in Draco Malfoy's room, because he was wearing his clothes. "I don't think anything happened," Harry said honestly, "apparently I was sick, and you'd all gone. Draco did a good thing," Harry added quietly.  
"Hmm," Hermione's lips were pursed, and she looked anxious, but didn't press the subject.  
"Well, it's about time he starts making up for things," Ron huffed, and pushed scrambled eggs around his plate.  
"Yes," Harry mumbled, "I agree."

After breakfast, Harry took to searching every newspaper he could get his hands on for some kind of help for Draco. Harry was determined to help him because, despite what happened the previous night, Draco was right; Harry did like Draco. Harry, alone in his dorm, had spread two newspapers on the floor, and was scouring the adds. Hopefully there was something in Hogsmeade, because eighth years could go any time they wanted, at the weekends and holidays. He'd circled a few things, but they didn't look overly promising. Harry felt a pang of guilt, because he was leaving Draco out of this, and it was he that Harry was helping. He scooped up the newspapers, and went to find Draco.

Draco was in the library, and his eyes lit up when Harry sat next to him. "Here," Harry pointed at an ad for a therapist.  
"Do you think they'd help?" Draco asked, tilting his head.  
"If you want to be helped," Harry said. As he understood, you could only be helped if you wanted to be helped, and welcomed it. "Then yes, I think so."  
"Okay," Draco found a scrap piece of parchment, and wrote down the address of a 'Madame Whitechurch'.

Harry agreed to accompany Draco to Madame Whitechurch's the next day, and was thankful it was in Hogsmeade. Draco had wrapped up warm, with a scarf, gloves and an extra jumper. Harry quite liked the cold, and wore less layers than Draco. The pair walked in a mutually agreed silence through the snow, and Draco only spoke when Madame Whitechurch's was in sight. "Thank you," he stopped in his tracks, and looked at Harry gratefully, "but you may leave now."  
"Will you be okay?" Harry asked, putting one hand on Draco's shoulder, smiling sympathetically.  
"Yes," Draco nodded, and took a deep breath. He summoned a brave smile, though he was shaking.  
"I believe in you," Harry hugged Draco quickly, and turned to walk away.  
"Thank you, Harry." Draco called after Harry quietly, and watched as he walked to Madame Pudifoot's.

An hour later, and Harry was sipping his third cup of coffee, waiting. Draco should have been out by now, but perhaps he was running late. No matter the answer to Draco's lateness, Harry worried. He looked at his pocket watch, and decided he should order Draco a coffee, as a treat.

It was another ten minutes before Draco came into the coffee shop, shivering. His coffee was still piping hot, and he nodded gratefully at Harry. "Thank you," he took the cup in both hands, and drunk happily.  
"How did it go?" Harry drained his coffee, and waited for a reply.  
"I'm going to go at the weekends, but Madame Whitechurch is a lovely lady," Draco smiled pleasantly. "She reminds me of my mother, in a good way. She suggested that I stop drinking, which I agreed with."  
"Anything else?" Harry relaxed, glad that Draco was pleased with his idea.  
"She said that I should vent my anger more often, which I also agreed with, and that I should face up to my fears." Draco nodded, and sipped his coffee again.  
"Fears?" Harry asked, curious.  
"Of things," Draco inhaled the sweet, coffee smell, and smiled happily. "People, as well. She thinks that when I drink, I let loose _too _much, and that I should control myself, and find a balance."  
"She sounds like she knows her stuff," Harry felt himself smiling naturally.  
"She does," Draco relaxed in his chair, "you should meet her."  
"I'd like that," Harry said, waving over a waitress. "May we have the bill, please?"  
"Of course, Harry," she was a tall, blonde, bubbly student in Ginny's year, and she flashed Harry a winning smile. A minute later, she came over with the bill, and her phone number. Harry paid up in full, and politely declined the offer of a date. "Sorry, I'm not interested." She huffed, and skipped away, already distracted.

Harry had been invited to Draco's prefect dorms, and accepted, eager to talk to him. The pair sat down in the common room, in front of the fire, and began talking. "Harry, are you not scared of me?" Draco asked.  
"Not really," Harry shrugged. "I think you need help, and I think that I'd like to help you."  
"Oh," Draco winced a little. "Harry, I do like you."  
"Do you?" Harry looked up at Draco.  
"Yes," Draco smiled sadly.  
"Will you promise not to hurt me?" Harry's eyes flicked around the room.  
"I promise I won't hurt you. Furthermore, I promise to care for you." Draco's breathing was shaky, "I _do _care for you." His frown was watery, "I hate myself for what I did to you."  
Harry exhaled, and hugged Draco tightly. He kissed the top of his forehead, and muttered, "I love you, no matter what you did to me."


End file.
